


Routine

by orphan_account



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: :(, Bullying, Gen, also listen to the song "exile" by the national whilst reading for added sad, theres some violence described but in an iffy sorta way, uhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything's the same as it's always been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine

You wake up every morning to the same sound of dogs barking next door. You wake up in the same bed, with the same grey sheets, and with the same pillow that you’ve always had. You wake up and you stand up and go through the same routine. You pull your murky uniform on and pick up your books and pack your bag and count the number of pencils in your pocket and remember to leave your scissors on the dresser.

It’s all the same, but you don’t care. You don’t want it to change as such.

Everyone else sees a lovely bright summer’s morning whilst all you can see is dull pavement and monochrome trees. You take the same steps as you always do, you look at the same things you always do, and you mutter the same things to yourself that you always do.

_disgusting worthless useless awful unwanted unloved ignored_

You walk through the same corridor that you always do, and you listen to the same taunts.

" _Hey, Fukawa-san!_ "

" _It's her!_ "

" _She's still alive! That's a shame._ "

You try and block them out like you always do, but you let it get to you. You always let it get to you. You can't stop it.

You arrive late to first lesson after crying in the toilets (as usual) and nobody asks why you have puffy red eyes. Nobody puts a hand on your shoulder, nobody tells you that it's okay, nobody comforts you, and that's the thing you need most.

You sit on your own at lunch, like always, and you don't eat. In fact, you forgot to bring anything to eat. You forgot. Not like you would be eating it anyway.

You sit through the rest of the lessons by yourself. You finish the next chapter of your story, and you add a small drawing too. You can pretend the girl you've drawn is your friend, you can pretend she's there for you, you can pretend that she's telling you to keep calm. You can pretend all you like, which is what you've been doing for most of your life.

You try and get out of last lesson before everyone else, but since your class are released a few minutes after the scheduled time today you're caught up with everyone in the hallways. You keep your head down as usual, and make it out the doors with the masses.

You run down the concrete path like you always do, and there's someone waiting at the end of it, like they always are.

You don't even try and stop them. You just let it happen. They kick and punch and scratch and it _hurts it hurts it hurts_ but you deserve it because you're a worthless piece of ugly trash that deserves this you deserve it _you deserve it_

They shout names at you, and they're nothing you haven't heard before. Nothing you haven't called yourself. Nothing you haven't thought of already.

You let the words wrap around your mind and you listen to them as they kick you and the pain suddenly becomes hollow and you can't feel it any more. The words start to just stick there and you feel your breathing start to speed up but you try to stop yourself from breathing rapidly because then it'll show them that you're weaker than they thought and they'll hurt you more and as much as you deserve that you still don't want it to happen.

Your nose feels like it's collapsed in on itself and your sides are aching and your arms are bruised and your knees are grazed and you have blood spilling out of your mouth but you don't try to wipe it away because then you'll see it and then you'll faint and you don't want anyone to find you like this. You want to go home and wash as much off you as you can and cover up your bruises with makeup and try to calm down.

You stumble back to your house _and guess who's not here your family who supposedly love you that's who_

You go up to the bathroom and stand over the sink, running the tap. You wash the blood off you and try not to look at it as it washes down along with the dirty water. You rub some concealer over the purple and blue marks on your face and the tone doesn't even match your skin but you don't care because at least you don't have any more reason to hate your looks more than you already do.

You make it back to your room. You fall onto your bed and drop your bag. You cry into the pillow. You cry and sob and sniffle and weep but none of it's going to help because you can't talk to anybody because you're on your own and you're all alone and crying won't help how much you hate yourself and crying won't help how much you think you deserve everything you get and crying won't help anything but you do it anyway.

This happens nearly every day. You think you'd be used to it by now. You think you would've grown a tougher skin and that you'd be ready for whatever comes next but it just gets worse and worse and worse and more brutal and every day it starts to hurt just that little bit more. You can't even bring yourself to write your stories at home any more. You simply have no motivation to do anything when you get home. You just want to sit and do nothing and say nothing and think nothing and feel nothing but you have try and move and you have to try and calm yourself down and you have to try and stop your mind from telling you everything that's on it and you have to try and shut out the pain but sometimes it's _too much_ and you feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper.

You curl up.

You're blissfully unaware of the room around you starting to blotch out. It's fading. It's all fading to black. Your mind is telling you that this isn't normal, that you need to stay awake, but you know that this is okay and that it's happened before and that you'll just lie unconscious for a few hours and then come back to reality. You're much happier in your dream state anyway.

Your mind continues to whirr and tell you that _it's not okay_ but you think

it's time

to sleep for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> kyokyos.tumblr.com / taetiramisu.co.vu


End file.
